


Crabapples

by Anonymous



Series: Malus [1]
Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Canon Related, Canonical Child Abuse, Character Study, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Child!Murdoc, Child!Murdoc Niccals, Childhood, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Food Issues, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Original Character(s), Pre-Canon, Pre-Gorillaz, Step-siblings, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, hunger
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 19:59:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15150725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Murdoc's always looked after himself in the end.Warnings:its an ugly one this round lads...referenced past but recent child sexual assault, child abuse including physical, emotional, financial, and neglect, bullying, unsanitary things, eating bad food, heavy swearing, alcohol abuse, homophobic slurs, whorephobia, dysfunctional eating habits, mild starvation, reference to vomit. Warnings subject to change.





	Crabapples

**Author's Note:**

> Murdoc is about 9 here. I hc Hans...somewhere between 6-8 years older. This is a very depressing fic and I am sorry.
> 
> Most of the warnings are just referenced stuff but I thought the fic needed to be tagged anyway.
> 
> Also i shouldn't REALLY have to say this but...I dont condone the actions or words of pm any character in the story. The goal is also not to romanticize Hannibal as a good brother or Murdoc as a blameless angel or some shit (tho fuck anyone who victim-blames either of them, esp at this age).
> 
> Also also, pls go easy on me ckdkzjd I tried but I'm uhhhh _not british_

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murdoc can find his own way home. That's what he tells himself, anyway.
> 
>  _Warnings:_ pretty much everything that's been warned about before - swearing, homophobic and whorephobic slurs, child abuse, previous injury, reference to vomit, referenced bullying, referenced csa, hunger, teenage smoking, all that stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could not think of a chapter title to save my goddamned life lmfao

The sun was setting, and real fear was beginning to creep into Murdoc’s chest. He hated his house and he hated what awaited him there, but he would give anything to be there right now. He'd never been out past dark by himself, not so far from home. Even when his dad had thrown him out in a drunken rage he'd kept near his own stoop.

He didn't know this street. He didn't know these people. He didn't know what their looks meant. He didn't like the way their eyes dug into him.

M- the din- _her_ hands were on him again. In his mind, on his skin. he pulled his coat in tighter. He swallowed his own bile and glared hard back at the wandering, vicious eyes on him. Some broke contact. Others didn't.

He closed his jacket, buttoned his shirt up to his neck. He tightened the strap on his bag and walked faster.

It was hard to walk too fast. The ground seemed to move beneath him. Everything was hazy, and the less light there was, the hazier it all got.

At that moment he hated Hannibal more than he'd ever hated anyone, including himself. Though he was quite a runner up. All he had to do was shut the fuck up for once and not get any bright ideas and he'd be curled up in bed right now, no worse off than before.

Murdoc ran into someone, having spent too much time looking behind him, too much time thinking. He looked up to see some tall dark figure obscured by dusk and a flickering street lamp. Probably just some stranger, but they looked all wrong, _inhuman_ , from here.

A snarl followed and gnarled hand reached out to him. He didn't know what the intention of that hand was and didn't care. He dodged it and hissed an obscenity, then took off running to the nearest alley.

That had its own risks but maybe he could hide for a bit. He was small. Thank God he was small. That was the one thing he could count on now. Maybe he could wedge himself in somewhere and be real quiet and he could even maybe lay down and sleep and survive the night without...anyone grabbing him...

Murdoc dove behind a dumpster, ramming himself into the brick wall beside it if only to curb his thoughts. He shook, breathing hard.

Several moments dragged by. He risked a glance from behind his hiding place.

No one had followed him. No one was looking in his direction.

No one was even in the middle of the street where he'd been.

A sharp noise split his thoughts, and he jumped, hitting his head on the dumpster, right where his bruise was. He swore, wincing.

The noise managed both to make him bristle and make his heart pump fast. It was also very familiar.

He peeked out further from the dumpster and there, haloed by dim orange light, was his dad’s ugly-as-hell car. His first instinct was to retreat back to his hiding spot, but he stood there for a minute and weighed his options.

“ _Oh for fuck’s sake,_ ” a voice very much unlike his father’s yelled, “get in you little slag!”

Hans was driving the car. Hans, not his dad.

The anger returned, but it was somewhat muted by relief.

He adjusted his bag and took off running towards the car.

He stopped at the rolled down driver’s-side window, his hands colliding loudly with the metal. “You _fuck!_ ” Murdoc growled. “You left me!”

Hannibal scoffed. “you _hit me_ you dense little faggot. And it's not my fault you're too stupid to find your way home by yerself.”

Murdoc slapped the side of the car door again. “Prick!”

“Dumbarse.”  

Murdoc stood there, scowling for a moment. He felt a bit woozy still from all that running  ~~and panicking~~.

Hannibal wasn't alone in the car. A bunch of his friends were jammed in the back. One of them was in the passenger's seat. Smoke was rolling out of the cracked windows like a cascade of storm clouds. Crass music was mumbling from the speakers.

“Hannibal, turn it back up!” one of them shouted.

“Suck my cock, Vinny.” Hannibal snapped. He turned back to Murdoc and gestured back with his head. “Well? Whaterya waitin’ for? Get the fuck in! Dad ain't gonna be passed out on the couch forever.”

“The fuck am I supposed to sit, arsehole?”

Hannibal grumbled, leaning back in his seat. “Dom get in the back.”

The slick-haired teen beside him scowled. “What? What the fuck?!”

“You heard me, cocksucker.” he fished a cigarette from behind his ear and started lighting up. “my baby brother’s riding shotgun. So go cram in the back with the resta ya degenerate leeches.”

Dom shot a glare at Murdoc, who grinned back at him, an air of smugness in his face.

Dom shoved his way into the overstuffed rear seats, the rest of its occupants grousing loudly. He grumbled obscenities of his own, pushing into the middle of a knot of four others teens. 

"You can sit in _my_ lap, Dommy boy." One of them purred, earning him a kick in the shin and a "kill yerself, Vince."

Murdoc climbed into the passenger side, shutting the creaking, dented door behind him. He was barely inside when Hannibal gunned the engine and sped off into the fast approaching dusk.

Murdoc watched the unfamiliar streets fade slowly into the backdrop. He wasn't sad to see them go.  

He turned and flopped back down into the seat. The leather was worn thin, cracked and torn and stained. Sebastian Niccals took about as good a care of his car has he did his sons. A bit better than them actually, but not by much. Heaven help the person responsible for wrecking it further though.

“Dad’ll kill ya if he finds out you nicked the Anglia.”

Hannibal snorted. “Well he won't. And you won't be tellin’ him neither. Lord knows ‘ve got enough on ya to get your ass beat over mine.”

He reached out and gave the bruise on Murdoc’s forehead a little flick. Murdoc snarled, swatting at him.

“You're more trouble than you'll ever be worth to anyone, y’know that?” Hannibal grumbled. “Worse than me even.”

Murdoc’s head was throbbing now, the music and the shouting teens in the backseat not helping. Someone kept kicking his seat. Probably Dom.

He couldn't think of a clever comeback through all of that.

“Can't ya lay off me for one solid minute, you….fuckarse…” He muttered, crossing his arms and turning away, keeping his gaze fixed on the car mat on the floor. It was torn and sticky, probably with booze. He picked at his cuff and its missing button, not sure whether he really felt like crying or not. Not entirely sure if he even could at this point.

He curled into the crook of the car seat and door, at least grateful not to be wedged between a dumpster and a wall anymore, shaking in the cold.

Well, he guessed he was grateful anyway. He was beginning to wonder if this was really a good alternative.

Murdoc sniffled, unable to suppress his misery. The tears never came though. Too numb or too tired, he wasn't sure.

He felt a hand reaching over to him and he jumped, ready to sink his teeth into someone.

“Easy, dumbfuck.” Hannibal said. He'd pulled back his hand, but he set it down on Murdoc’s shoulder again. “You're a little bugger, but I shouldnta left ya.”

Murdoc wasn't sure if he wanted that hand there or not. He just felt increasingly numb, and cold. He wished he could just be a normal little pathetic brat and curl up next to his big brother and cry his little brat eyes out...he just didn't know how.  

Eventually he shrugged it off, and leaned back into the door of the car. “Jus’ wanna go home, Hans...”

He wiped his eyes, as if there were tears, or as if that would make them come. Or as if that would make him feel better, like actually crying might have.

All he managed to feel was sick and hollow and achey throughout all of his insides.

His hand wandered down into his bag. He pulled out a bruised crabapple and listlessly look a bite.

Hannibal looked over and made a disgusted noise. “The fuck is that shit?”

Murdoc scowled. “Dinner, arsehole.” He took another bite. It burned on his tongue.

Hannibal snatched the battered thing out of Murdoc’s hand.

“Hey!” He stood up on the seat, clawing at the dismal fruit. “Give it back you stupid slag!”

Hannibal easily pushed him back into his seat. He stared at the crabapple and gave it a sniff, a look still on his face. “You put this shit in your mouth?”

Murdoc hissed. “M’ fucking _bloody_ _hungry_ , you goddamned motherfucking pissfaced…”

Hannibal reached over and chucked it out of the open window.

Murdoc lunged at him. “ _You_ _fucking cunt_!”

The car swerved a bit. Hannibal swatted him down again. He smacked the back of his head. “Faggot.”

Now Murdoc was about ready to cry. He clutched his sore, pounding head. “Can't you just lay off, just _for once_ lay off, I didn't do nothing today I…”

“Shut the fuck up.” Hannibal snapped. “Why didn't you tell me you were that fucking hungry, you stupid little fuck?”  

Murdoc sobbed. Nothing came out of his eyes, but he kept sobbing.

“Crybaby.” Dom chortled.

Hannibal reached behind and smacked him.

“Oi! The fuck…?”

“You don't talk shit ‘bout my brother, fuckhead.”

Hannibal turned back to Murdoc, ignoring Dom’s muttering and complaining. “Didnt you get lunch from school today?”

Murdoc kept crying, dry-eyed and shaking. He hugged himself.

“ _Murdoc._ ” Hannibal’s raised tone made Murdoc curl tighter into himself, and pull away.

Hannibal turned off the radio. He was immediately greeted by a chorus of loud complaints.

“Shut the fuck up, you sods!” he shouted. “‘N if i catch you listening in I'll throw alla ya outta the car!”

They all took to muttering and lighting up more cigarettes.

He turned back to his brother, still shaking and whimpering.

“Hey Muds,” he said softly. “Its ok. I'm not dad, alright?”

Murdoc gave him an equally soft glare from under his greasy hair. “Stop hittin’ me then.”

“You're a stupid little shit. You deserve it.” Hannibal said. “Maybe one day it'll straighten ya out.”

Murdoc mustered a bit more of a scowl. “Well that's somethin’ dad _would say,_  now isn't it?”

Hans opened his mouth, then closed it again. His scowl settled into something a bit more somber.

Murdoc turned away, hugging himself tighter.

He was expecting some yelling, more insults, maybe for Hannibal to cuff him again, but nothing happened. Nothing but a tense silence as Murdoc waited for the other shoe to drop.

Eventually, Hannibal turned the radio back on. His friends cheered, pounding on the back of the seats.

Murdoc wrapped his arms around his head, covering his ears and as much of his face as possible. He fantasized about having some peace and quiet and a proper cry, though he knew he’d get none of it.

He’d been curled up in a protective ball for a while, his mind somewhere else, when distantly, Murdoc felt the car roll to a stop. He perked up his head and glanced out the window, and found the local dive staring back at him. _Cherry’s_ in bright red letters blinked and flickered in front of the red sunset like a sign of the supernatural sort, rather than just the secular.

He felt a little bump against his shoulder and jumped, hissing. He looked down to see a small pile of coins shoved in his face.

He stole a look at Hannibal, then back at the cash.

“Well go on, take it.” Hannibal snorted. “You'd be the world's worst thief. You see cash you take it, Muds.”

Murdoc scooped up the money, scowling. “There's always a catch.” he muttered, stuffing it into his good pocket.

Hannibal gestured to the restaurant in front of them. “Now you go on, get what you like, keep the change, ok? Try to hold onto it. Kick in the teeth of whoevers troublin’ ya will ya?” He dug a cigarette out of his chest pocket. “Stop bein’ such a pussy.”

“What, none for us?” asked one of his friends, swatting at Hannibal.

Hannibal swatted back, scoffing. “I got ya the car didn't I? I ain't wasting any dosh on any a ya too.”

Murdoc opened the door and slid out of the car, the change jangling in his pocket. His head felt light, but for once, so did the rest of him. His little mind and body weren't ready to process any of what was happening, but maybe that was ok, because he was too busy trying to imagine what he was going to have for dinner.

 

\---

 

Murdoc returned to the car soon after, a big box of fish and chips in tow. He was already stuffing them into his mouth, crumbs catching in his hair and falling onto his tie.  

Hannibal started the car. He reached over for a chip.

Murdoc _growled_ at him, teeth bared.

“feral mutt, you are.” Hannibal muttered, his fingers hovering over the box. “calm the fuck down, I paid for that shit.”

Murdoc glared back at him, murder in his eyes. “ _Ill bite yer soddin’ hand off._ ”

Hannibal quickly retreated, placing his hand back on the wheel. It gave Murdoc an unusual surge of satisfaction.

Hannibal had a look of amusement on his face. “see? You do that at school, I guarantee no one’ll fuck wit' ya.” he snorted. " _Ungrateful little bastard._..”

Murdoc stuffed a wad of chips in his mouth, and found it within himself to grin back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I headcanon their dad drives a fucked up black Ford Anglia 100e, in case anyone wanted to know lmfao
> 
> Also, i know juuust enough about UK slang to know I've probably used half of this wrong and that "shotgun" as a term referring to the passengers side of a car (in reference to the stagecoachs of the old west employing guards with shotguns to ride beside the driver to protect the occupants or cargo from bandits) is an American slang term through and through that is also, because of its strange grammarical function as a slang term, pretty difficult to use properly if you aren't colloquially familiar with it, HOWEVER it sounded good so im not changing it. So...there. Hannibal is whatever the equivalent of a weeb for american culture is. 
> 
> I uh. Did a fair amount of research for this fic and its respective series, in cause you couldn't tell. Yeah.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, hey, hope you enjoyed this fic. It hurt really bad to write lmfao but also felt better I guess.
> 
> But yeah, fair warning, a few of the other fics in this series will likely be even darker, but I felt the need to poke the bear I guess. 
> 
> Uhhhhhh I hate to be the kind of person who begs for comments or w/e but this entire series is already taxing emotionally for me, I can't really show anyone I know atm, and I dont even know if i should be writing this, so support and interaction is um...particularly welcome in this case, lets say lol


End file.
